I Will Remember You
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: "Please, you can't do this. Don't take my son away." "Don't make me go, Daddy. Mommy lived here." "I know, Kurt, but Daddy doesn't have a choice." Baby!Klaine Warnings will vary.
1. Chapter 1

**I Will Remember You**

"Please, you can't do this. Don't take my son away." The father said, tears in his eyes, body weary and heavy as he looked at the stern woman in front of him. A little boy clung to his father's leg, hiding behind it, unsure of what was happening, but understanding that it wasn't good.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel," she said flatly. "But you don't have the means to take care of your son. I know that your wife's passing has dissolved most of your funds, and I am sorry for your loss. But until you can take care of both yourself and your son I'm afraid we'll have to take him into the state's custody."

The boy looked up at his father. "Daddy?"

"It's alright, buddy." He patted his hair before looking at the woman again. "Please, all I need is three weeks. Three weeks and I can get-"

"And until then, Mr. Hummel, we'll have to keep your son in a group home," she said. "I will give you an hour with your son to pack his things."

Burt swallowed hard, bending down and picking up his child, who buried his face in his shirt. "Kurt, let's go inside for a minute."

The little boy looked up at his father when they got inside. "Come on, Kurt," he said, stretching out his hand. The little boy took it, following him upstairs.

"Daddy?" He said, watching his dad dig out his suitcase from under the bed. "Daddy, where are we going?" Burt swallowed, glad his son couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

"You're going on a trip, buddy," he said, voice steady. Kurt frowned.

"By-by myself? Why aren't you coming?" He asked, voice small. Burt smiled at him, still bent on one knee.

"Because this is a very special trip that only certain big boys get to go on," he said, touching his nose. Kurt smiled.

"Really?"

"Uh huh. And because you've been such a big brave boy after what happened to Mommy they picked you to go on this trip." Kurt's smile slowly faded as he looked around, eyes finally coming to a rest on his face.

"I don't wanna go. You need me here. I'll just tell them I can't go," he said simply. A fresh wave of sobs tried to escape Burt's throat. He swallowed again.

"I'll be just fine, Kurt. Don't worry about me, okay?" He said, patting his shoulder. "You just go and have fun."

Kurt looked at the floor, eyes wet when he looked back at him. "Daddy, why are you lying to me?" Burt's broken heart only twisted harder. He hugged him tight, rocking him slightly.

"Kurt, I…I need you to go with those people outside for just a little while, okay? You'll be going somewhere with a lot of other little kids that you can play with," he smiled, trying to make it less painful for one of them. "I'll be there to get you before you know it."

"Did…did I do something wrong?" He trembled.

"No!" He hugged him again. "No, no, no, buddy. You didn't do _anything _wrong, okay? I promise. Now I need you to be a good boy for me while your there, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Kurt started to cry, burying his face in Burt's shirt. "Daddy, please, I don't wanna go. Please don't make me go. Mommy lived here." Burt nodded, a tear escaping to his cheek.

"I know, I know, Kurt. But Daddy doesn't have a choice, okay? I need you to be strong for me for a little while."

Kurt sniffed, looking at him. "Okay, Daddy."

* * *

><p>Kurt packed his suitcase with clothes he picked out himself, making sure he had enough bowties to survive on for awhile. His Maria bonnet was tucked in the bottom along with a picture of him with his Mommy and Daddy, smiling and happy. He set his favorite scarf on top of everything, straightening his Mary Jane's and sliding his comb in beside it.<p>

He had a backpack filled with toys, a tiny pillow his Mommy had sewn together for him when he was a baby, his very worn copy of "The Velveteen Rabbit" Nana had given him a few years ago and a Cubs baseball cap Daddy had bought him at his first game.

He held his Raggedy Ann doll at his side, backpack over his shoulder, suitcase rolling behind him. Burt bend down in front of him, pinning something to his vest. "Your mom was gonna give you that on your birthday," he said softly. Kurt looked at the airplane brooch on his vest, toying with it for a moment. Burt kissed his forehead, hugging him tight.

"Mr. Hummel-"

"Just one more minute," he croaked. "Be good, okay?" Kurt nodded.

"Please don't take too long, Daddy," he whispered. Burt nodded, giving him one more kiss and just one more squeeze before letting him go.

Kurt sobbed all the way to the car, head bowed, refusing to hold the mean lady's hand. He climbed in the car without a fuss, sniffling and holding onto his doll for dear life. He waved at his daddy as the car pulled away, refusing to break down until he was out of sight.

Burt watched the car pull out of sight, waving back at his little boy before he fell to his knees, sobbing hard. He looked up at the sky. "Watch him, Elizabeth. And for the love of God, keep him safe."

* * *

><p><em>Day 1...<em>

"See? This doesn't seem too bad, does it?" The woman asked sweetly, looking up at the house.

It was a pretty nice neighborhood, as Kurt noted when he looked around. But the house in front of him looked weary, worn and tired, unlike the rest of the fresh and new houses around him. He could see the little playground that made up the backyard…and the older boys and girls smoking in the alley on the other side of it. He shivered, scared.

"There's lots of little friends for you to play with, Kurt," she said, still smiling at him. "And you'll have a room with other boys your age and everything. You'll have a lot of fun."

He said nothing as he walked toward it, going up the stairs with his head high, tears suppressed.

The mean lady knocked on the door, still smiling to assure him it was alright.

An older woman, probably Nana's age, looked down at him, smiling. "Well aren't you just darling?" She pinched his cheek. He jerked away, glaring at her. "Ooh, spitfire, huh?"

"He's just a little upset," Mean Lady explained.

"Aw, it's alright, pumpkin. It's not so bad here," she said. She looked at Mean Lady, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. "So what is it? Drunk dad, druggie mom?" Kurt scowled at the ground, wishing he had the guts to just run away.

"No," Mean Lady said, "his mother passed away and his father is having a hard time financially."

"I'm going home soon," he grumbled. She patted his head, and once again he jerked from her.

"I'm sure you are, honey."

Kurt didn't hear the rest of the conversation. He didn't start paying attention again until he was being ushered inside. He looked around at the wilted staircase and the torn wallpaper. The rug under his feet was stained and it reeked of cigarette smoke. He squeezed his doll again.

"All of the rooms with boys your age are full, kiddo," the older woman said as he followed her up the stairs. "So you'll have to stay in here with James."

He looked at the bedroom. The walls were decorated with loud, angry posters of bands that he'd never heard of, and some that he couldn't even read. What he assumed was his half of the room was at least clean, a bare twin bed in front of him.

"I'll get you some sheets, okay? Did you bring your own pillow?" He thought of the tiny pillow in his backpack and nodded. "Good. I'll be right back."

He stood, legs shaking as he stepped over to the bed. He looked around, peering out the window, getting a view of the front yard across the street.

A little boy was pushing a fake lawnmower that blew bubbles. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched a woman come up behind him, scooping him in her arms and twirling him around. The boy laughed and giggled with his mother, something Kurt would never get to do again.

He sat on the bed, buried his face in his hands, and cried.

-I'm warning you now, folks, this is going to get pretty bad. More soon but for now tell me what you think!-


	2. Chapter 2

**I Will Remember You**

Kurt didn't go down for dinner when the other boys and girls were called. He made his bed, setting his baby pillow in the empty space at the top. He carefully taped the picture of Mommy and Daddy to the wall, double-checking to see if it was straight and put his book and his doll on the nightstand. He decided it would be better to keep his Maria bonnet put away; he was already made fun of in school and he didn't expect it to be any different here.

He dug in his backpack, retrieving his green, red and yellow Power Rangers, who were currently in a love triangle, both men fighting for Yellow Ranger's love. He set them neatly in front of him, digging inside again, retrieving the only Barbie he owned, who was playing the role of the hussy trying to make this love triangle a square and set her down.

He took a breath, taking out the final two toys he brought. They were wrapped in scarves to avoid scratches. He unwrapped them very gently; his two favorite Power Rangers, one white and one black. Mommy had driven all the way to a Toys 'R' Us in Columbus to find them for him last Christmas, and they were very, very special to him.

He played quietly for awhile, ignoring the love triangle after awhile and sticking to his favorites, who were so madly in love that the rest of the drama and fighting going on in the rest of the world couldn't touch them. They were oblivious to it, happy. But what made really made them special? They were both boys.

"Mommy?" He'd asked what seemed like years ago. "Can two boys love each other like boys and girls can?"

"They sure can," she'd smiled, touching his cheek. "Two girls can love each other too, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, no matter what anyone says." He'd grinned at her.

"Good, 'cause I have a secret to tell you," he whispered. She bent down over her crossed legs, leaning closer to him.

"Oh, tell me Kurt. Please, I simply must know," she said softly. He looked around before answering, cupping her ear to insure privacy.

"These two," he said, shaking the toys a little. "Are in love." She'd grinned at him.

"That is wonderful, Kurt. How did they meet?"

He told her everything about them, and she listened with a smile on her face, asking questions and letting him talk until his story was through.

Kurt looked down at those Power Rangers, knowing that his Mommy would never know how their wedding went, or about their fight about where their apartment should be… Or that he missed her so much his chest hurt every time he thought about her.

And Kurt found himself crying again.

* * *

><p>He had just finished changing into his pajamas when a boy who he assumed was James came in.<p>

He jumped, looking at the boy, who dressed in black from head-to-toe, hair dyed the same color, lips pierced, skin sallow and pale.

"Who the fuck are you?" He snapped. Kurt jumped again at the harsh language.

"K-Kurt," he squeaked. The boy was slowly walking toward him. Kurt wanted to hop onto the bed and hide in the corner, but his legs wouldn't let him. James grabbed the front of his nightshirt, hoisting him off the ground with a fistful of fabric. Kurt whimpered. The boy reeked of cigarette smoke and something else that he couldn't quite name. He shivered a little, terrified.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?"

"Th-this is my room too," he said, close to tears again. James sneered at him, throwing him back down onto his bed.

"Mrs. Melrose put you in here?" He snarled. The frightened child nodded. James slammed his fist in the closet door, making Kurt jump again. "God damn it!" He bellowed, stalking out of the room.

Kurt got up onto the bed, hugging his knees to his chest and sobbing into them. "Daddy…" He moaned. "I want my Daddy…"

* * *

><p><em>Day 2...<em>

Sleeping was almost out of the question that night. His fear of James hurting him or letting out the monster that was surely lurking in the closet kept his eyes opened. He let his tears seep into his Raggedy Ann, praying that tomorrow would be better.

He hopped out of bed when the sun rose, getting his toiletry bag and a change of clothes, putting on his slippers and toddling to the end of the hall where the bathroom was.

He quietly shut the door, stepping on top of the toilet to reach a towel and a washcloth before turning on the water.

He undressed, wishing there was a lock on the door that he could press and jumped in the tub. He gasped at the cold water, trying to turn the hot water up. There was none. No matter how hard he tried the water wouldn't get any warmer. He sniffed, wishing he were at home with his bubble bath and rubber duckys and continued to shower.

His lips were blue when he got out, body covered in goosebumps and trembling. He dried thoroughly, dabbing away tears as he went. He wondered if he'd ever run out of those.

He jumped when the door opened suddenly, hastily pulling up his underwear and covering himself.

"Whoa," an older boy said, hair mussed from sleep, eyes squinted. Judging from both his height, his voice and his attitude he was older than James, which only frightened Kurt more. "Sorry, little dude." Kurt didn't speak, he simply stood and stared at him, afraid he would treat him the way James had. The boy rubbed his eyes. "You mind if I use the pisser?" He gestured to the toilet. Kurt shook his head, gathering his clothes and backing away.

The boy lifted the lid, as if Kurt wasn't there, relieving himself. Kurt looked away, pulling on his undershirt and tugging on his pants without taking the towel off.

"What's this?" The boy asked, holding up a bottle of lotion.

"Lotion," Kurt peeped. "For my face. My skin gets dry."

"Oh," he said, setting it down. He flushed, dropping the lid and washing his hands. "What's your name, little guy?"

"Kurt," he trembled.

"I'm Liam," he said, turning to shake his hand. Kurt took it, eyes growing as Liam's hand swallowed his. "Sorry about barging in again," he chuckled. "Take it easy."

Kurt let out a deep breath when he left, shutting the door and hastily buttoning his shirt. He combed his hair and brushed his teeth before clipping on his bowtie, standing on a stool so he could see properly.

The door bust open again without warning, but instead of someone older, it was a group of girls and boys staring at him as if he were an exhibit at the zoo.

The tiny child stared back for a moment before deciding to ignore them. He gathered his toiletry bag and his dirty clothes in his arms before trying to leave. A taller boy with a Mohawk stopped him, smirking at him.

"Can I get by, please?" He whispered. The boy laughed with the others, looking at them, making Kurt feel stupid and embarrassed.

"You're dressed funny," the kid said. Kurt looked up at him through his eyelashes, glancing at his clothes. He didn't see anything funny about his outfit. He actually really liked it. The kid in front of him had on a sleeveless shirt and jeans that looked as if they'd been through a meat grinder.

"I think you're dressed funny," he remarked. The boy frowned, smacking the clothes and bag from Kurt's hand, spilling the contents everywhere.

He dropped to his knees, scrambling to get everything together, tearing up as the children laughed at his dismay. He stood, tears threatening him.

The Mohawked boy was smirking, holding his Johnson's baby shampoo, jerking it away when Kurt reached for it.

"Give it back," he mumbled.

"Ask me nicely," the boy demanded. Kurt scowled at him.

"Give it back, _please_," he amended.

"No," he smirked. The kids laughed again. He pulled it away again when Kurt tried to grab it, backing up and laughing as he kept trying.

"Give it back!" Kurt barked, reaching for it, cheeks red, tears streaking down them.

"Take it from me, sissy!" The boy teased.

"Don't let him get it, Puck!" A girl jeered.

"Yeah, he's a sissy!"

Kurt ignored the name-calling, still jumping and reaching. The boy called Puck finally tripped him, stepping on the shoelace of his penny-loafer. He fell on the worn rug, skinning his elbow. The other children laughed as Puck dropped the bottle on his back and walked away.

"Bye, sissy."

Kurt wiped his eyes and stood, putting the soap away with dignity. He went back to his room, tip-toeing so as not to wake James and scurried out to find a safe, quiet place outside.

* * *

><p>He ended up in the front yard away from everyone, sitting alone with an empty baggie that had contained his snack and a juice box.<p>

He stared at his hands, toying with the fabric of his pants, wishing he had an iron to press out some of these seams.

"Hi there." He jumped, looking up at the voice. His heart swelled.

A little boy stood in front of him, the same he'd seen yesterday pushing the lawnmower across the street. He had dark brown curls that fell around big brown eyes and a sparkling smile. Mommy would have called it a "dizzy-dreamer grin."

"Hi," Kurt said.

"I'm Blaine," he said, sticking his hand out. Kurt shook it, blushing for reasons he didn't know.

"Kurt."


	3. Chapter 3

**-Abuse Warning!-**

**I Will Remember You**

Blaine smiled at him, sitting beside him on the sidewalk. "Why are you out here all by yourself?" He asked, curious. Kurt glanced at him, still unable to get over how cute he was. He remained wary; even the nicest looking boys had hurt him before.

"The other children make fun of me," he mumbled.

"That's awful," he remarked. "I don't see anything to make fun of." Kurt stared at him, skeptical.

"You don't?" He shook his head. "You're an odd boy." Blaine shrugged, smiling.

"I just don't see any reason to tease you," he said. "So, do you want to play?"

Play. Kurt had never been asked to play before. Sure, he'd played with children that were _forced_ to play with him, but he always ended by himself. Mommy played with him all the time, but…

"You want to play with me?" He asked softly. Blaine nodded, still smiling.

"You look sad and I want to cheer you up. Nobody as cute as you should be sad," he said happily. Kurt blushed, folding his lips and looking at his hands, shy. "I…I have Power Rangers upstairs," he mumbled, containing his excitement.

"Oh, no fair!" Blaine exclaimed, smile never faltering. "I don't have _any_ Power Rangers. My daddy thinks they're a waste of time. All I have is G.I. Joe." Kurt smiled, happy to share.

"It's okay! I have five and a Barbie Doll," he grinned. "I'll be right back!" He scrambled up, running as fast as his little legs would carry him up the stairs and to his room. He skidded to a stop when he saw James sitting on his bed, smoking a cigarette.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snarled, looking at him. Kurt jumped a little, edging toward his backpack.

"Nothing." He snatched it up, bolting back down the stairs and outside, praying he was still there. He grinned when he saw him, plopping back down.

Blaine smiled. "Let's play.

* * *

><p>They played for <em>hours<em>. They ate lunch outside, talked about everything from crusts on their sandwiches to their parents, and now they were talking about what Kurt had fought to avoid all day.

"Why is a nice boy like you in a terrible place like that?" He asked, toying with the ranger he was holding. Kurt bowed his head, immediately slammed with tears, thinking of the daddy he so desperately wanted to see. His lips trembled, sniffing lightly. Blaine touched his shoulder, worried. "Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry, Kurt, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He shook his head.

"A mean lady came and took me away from my daddy," he whispered. "She said he couldn't take care of me, so I had to come here. But-but I'm eight-and-a-half years old. I can run myself a bath and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and brush my teeth and get dressed all by myself. Daddy doesn't need to take care of me, I can do it!" He was sobbing softly. Blaine patted his hand before pulling him into a hug, unable to just let him sit there and cry like that. Kurt hugged him back, crying into his shoulder.

"It's okay," Blaine soothed, rubbing his back. "It's okay, now. I've got you. Shh…"

Kurt sniffed, fighting a losing battle with his tears.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I-I just wanna go home." Blaine gave him a tight squeeze.

"At least you have a friend now," he assured. Kurt looked at him, wiping his eyes.

"Friend?" He gulped. He'd never had one of those before, either.

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, grinning. "I'm your friend."

"Bla-aine!" A woman across the street called. He sighed, hugging him again.

"I gotta go," he said. "Can we play tomorrow?" Kurt nodded rapidly.

"Uh huh."

"In the morning?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay." He took off toward his house, giving Kurt one more wave before disappearing inside his house.

Kurt sighed, gathering his toys, placing the two wrapped dolls inside with the Barbie. He stared up at the house with dread, knowing the rest of the evening would be awful.

* * *

><p><em>Day 6…<em>

"Let me out!" Kurt sobbed, beating against the shed door. "Please, let me out!" He could hear the children laughing at him on the other side.

He was so scared of the dark, he always had been. And this place offered almost no light. He couldn't see his own hand in front of his face, the air was hot and humid and he was too afraid to move from this spot in front of the door. He fell against it, crying, begging. "Please, please, let me out!"

"Maybe we should," a voice said.

"Puckerman, no," an angry Hispanic girl named Santana spat. "We just put him in there!"

"Yeah, but he's freaking out!"

"So what? Let him."

A loud whistle blew, signaling it was time for dinner.

"C'mon," Santana said, tugging Puck away. "We'll let him out later."

Kurt cried harder once he understood he was alone, stomach rumbling. "W-wait! Wait, please, I'm hungry too!" But they were gone.

He slid down the door of the shed, burying his face in his knees, trying not to think about the darkness around him.

"Mommy…" he moaned. "Mommy…"

* * *

><p>Noah sat at the long table, just having finished his Spaghetti-Os. He looked around, seeing if any of the kids were going to go outside and let Kurt out of the shed. He sighed when he saw them all heading to their respective rooms, the crying boy completely forgotten about.<p>

He stood, the guilt too much for him to handle.

Ten minutes later he was walking to the backyard with a peanut butter sandwich and a pouch of Capri Sun. He unlocked the shed, looking down.

Kurt gasped, turning to look up at him, eyes red and swollen, cheeks wet. They simply looked at each other for a moment. Puck bent down and helped him up before practically throwing the food at him.

"Don't tell anyone I did that," he mumbled.

"Okay," Kurt gulped.

"I- you…sorry!" He blurted before sprinting away before Kurt could say anything else.

He ate quickly, a spark of hope for this place inside him.

* * *

><p>James wasn't in the room when Kurt went to bed that night, and he thanked God for that.<p>

He read his book, tracing Nana's writing in the front.

"_For Kurt,"_ it read, _"my little velveteen rabbit. Different and beautiful, no matter what anyone tells you."_ He missed her…

He fell asleep a little while later, holding his doll and facing the picture of his parents.

"Goodnight Mommy," he whispered, eyes drooping. "Goodnight, Daddy."

He was lost in innocent, child-like dreams when he gasped awake. He quickly discovered the purpose; there was someone in the bed with him.

"Don't say a fucking word," the person growled. _James_. "You make a sound and you'll get in big trouble. You want to go home soon, don't you?" Kurt whimpered softly and nodded, terrified. "Then you be quiet or your daddy will leave you here."

He squeaked as a reply, heart thundering. He trembled hard, shutting his eyes, completely confused as to what was happening.

He whimpered again when James started to touch him, tears leaking from his wide and frightened eyes.

"Shh…" James hissed. "Shh, it'll be over soon…"

-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I'm a terrible person, I know! Please review if you don't hate me! .-


	4. Chapter 4

**-Same Abuse Warning as before-**

**I Will Remember You**

_Day 7…_

Kurt was still crying the next morning as he sat on the porch, waiting for Blaine. He didn't eat breakfast and he'd showered for almost an hour, fought to get his luffa back from Puckerman and sprinted out here, hair combed, bowtie in place, backpack clutched to his chest.

He sniffed, praying as hard as he could for God to give his mommy back to him for just one day.

"How come every time I come over here, you're crying?" Blaine asked softly. Kurt shrugged.

"I hate it here," he gulped. Blaine patted his back; he scooted away from him, not because he didn't want Blaine to touch him, but because he didn't want to be touched at all. "I want my daddy."

"He'll be here soon," he assured.

"What if he leaves me forever like Mommy?" He blinked, eyes swimming.

"Hey," Blaine said sadly, cautiously hugging him. Kurt allowed it, too tired to really hold back. "Your daddy won't leave you. He'll come, he'll come." Kurt wiped his eyes, smiling.

"You wanna play?" He asked, voice shaky. Blaine's smile stayed, warm and soothing.

"Yup!"

"Here," Kurt said, handing him his black Power Ranger.

"Oh, no," Blaine said, holding up his hands to stop him. "Kurt, I can't. Your mommy gave you those."

"And I want you to play with it," he said simply.

As if it were made of glass, Blain took it, being very gentle. Kurt chewed his lip, holding the white one.

"Okay, if you're gonna play you have to know," he nervously squeezed the action figure. "These two are in love." Blaine just looked at him.

"Aren't they both boys?" He wondered. Kurt swallowed.

"Uh huh." Blaine broke into a dimpled grin, much to Kurt's relief.

"Cool!"

As they played, Kurt managed to put the horrors of the previous night out of his mind, happy that Blaine was there to make it all better.

About two hours later, right before lunch, the black Ranger kissed the white one.

Kurt jumped back, looking at Blaine with wide eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"Isn't that what people do when they like each other?" He asked, cocking his head. Kurt was blushing.

"Well, yes, but…" He trailed off.

"I don't think it's wrong for two boys to kiss," Blaine whispered. Kurt smiled for what felt like years.

"Me neither."

They kept playing until they were called to lunch, intent on coming back to play.

Kurt went inside, sitting in the corner and nibbling apiece of bread, wanting to do anything but eat. He ignored the other children calling him sissy, and some of the older kids calling him "gay boy" and other foul names. He rushed to the door to wait for Blaine.

Half-way through the doorway, he fell on his face, juice bouncing away and leaking on the porch. He glared up at Puck.

"Watch where you're going," he smirked. Kurt pushed himself up.

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" He snapped, stalking away.

He sat back on the porch, waiting patiently for Blaine to come back, Power Rangers in his lap.

"Hey, sissy!" He winched, stuffing the toys in his back. "What, you too good to play with us?" A boy Kurt didn't know said, coming toward him.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled.

"How about," the boy knocked the bag out of his hands, shoving him back. Kurt winced but stood his ground. "you don't tell me what to do."

"J-just go away," he demanded. They were circling around him, causing Kurt to shake in fear, knees knocking together."

"I don't think we will," he growled.

* * *

><p>It took Blaine a moment to register what he was seeing when he came outside. There was a group of boys standing in a circle, laughing aloud, shoving something back and forth between them. One stepped forward, kicking whatever was on the ground before hauling it up and pushing it again.<p>

Whatever it was cried out, "Stop it!"

He understood then. It was Kurt. These boys were hurting Kurt. He bolted across the street, murderously angry.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" He bellowed, shoving through them and catching Kurt as he went flying.

"What's goin' on out here?" Mrs. Melrose barked, stepping outside. The boys backed off, allowing her to see Kurt and Blaine. Kurt's face was bruised, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as well as his nose, cheek, hands and knees scraped.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded, holding his hand

"Boys, what did I tell you about picking on the littler kids? Knock it off! Shoo!" She pushed them away, bending down to look at Kurt. She sighed. "Come on, boy, let's get you-" he jerked away from her, leaning into Blaine and digging in his bag for his first aid kit.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "I can do it myself."

"If you say so," she shrugged, muttering to herself as she went back inside. The pale boy didn't cry until she was gone, resting his head against Blaine's shoulder. Blaine petted his hair, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing the blood away. Kurt sniffed, taking out band-aids and Neosporin.

"What don't you have in that backpack?" Blaine smiled.

"My bike," he said matter-of-factly, smiling wryly.

"Those boys had no right to hit you," he said seriously. He looked at his face again, touching his chin. "They didn't hurt you too badly, did they?"

"No, I'm okay," he whispered. Blaine hugged him again.

"Just remember I'm right across the street if you're not," he said softly. Kurt looked at him for a moment, then, suddenly, leaned forward, pecking his lips. Blaine jumped back in surprise, blushing.

"Why'd you do that?" He whispered. Kurt smiled shyly.

"Isn't that what people do when they like each other?"

* * *

><p><em>Day 10…<em>

"Daddy…"

"Shut up!"

Kurt squirmed a little, trying to make James leave him alone. He only squeezed him tighter, covering his mouth.

"You want me to tell on you?" He growled. "You want me to tell your Daddy what you've been doing?"

Kurt shook his head, whimpering again. "Please, don't tell Daddy."

"Then be _quiet_."

The tiny child stared at the stilled image of his mother, crying silently and praying so hard that she could forgive him for being so bad.

* * *

><p><em>18 days…<em>

"Kurt," Blaine said, peering at his friend's drawing. "What is that?" The boy didn't look up as he answered.

"Me," he said quietly. Blaine's frown deepened. The picture was indeed a person, but there were black streaks and smudges ground over its' body and face, brown joining in the muck, red slashes over its arms, legs, cheeks and groin.

"Wh-why did you draw yourself like that?" he asked gently.

"Because I'm dirty and ugly," he said softly. Blaine's jaw dropped in horror.

"No, no you are not!" He said firmly. "You are a nice, smart, wonderful, cute boy and a good person. That is _not_ what I see when I look at you."

"It's what I see," he whispered. Blaine lifted his chin.

"I think your mirror's broken," he said, offering a smile. "Why do you think you're dirty and ugly?" He could almost see the wave of tears slam Kurt with brute force. He looked up at him, crying.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He said so softly Blaine barely heard him. He nodded. Kurt glanced at him, hesitating. "I…never mind, let's color."

"Hey," Blaine said softly, taking his hand to gain his attention. "If I tell you a secret first will you tell me yours?" He asked gently. "Okay." He dug in his pocket, digging out a pink toy the size of a compact. He opened it up, revealing a tiny house an even smaller blonde doll. "This is my Polly Pocket," he said softly. "If my daddy knew I had it he'd throw it away and spank me." Kurt's brows rose.

"Spank you?" he asked, horrified.

"Yeah," Blaine said casually. "You've never been spanked before?"

"No," he said, still repulsed.

"Oh… Well this is my favorite toy and I have to keep it a secret. You wanna tell me yours now?" Kurt nodded, knowing that Blaine's secret was just as important as his. He took a shaking breath.

"At night, when, when I try to go to sleep…James gets in my bed and he…he touches me," he said, so very quiet. Blaine frowned, just noticing that Kurt was squeezing his hand.

"Does he touch you in…bad places?" He asked, trying to understand. Kurt sniffed, shutting his eyes and swallowing hard, barely nodding.

"I wanna go home," he squeaked. "I want my bed, and my snacks, and my toys, and my daddy and I just wanna go _HOME_!" He bawled. Blaine held his friend, rocking him gently.

"I know, I know. Shh… It's okay. I want you to go home too. I want you to be happy, Kurt," he said. Kurt rested his cheek against his chest, tears seeping into his Sesame Street shirt.

"Thank you for being a good first friend, Blaine," he whispered. Blaine squeezed him, smiling just a little.

"You deserve lots of good friends, Kurt."


	5. Chapter 5

**I Will Remember You**

_25 days…_

He'd made up his mind. He was tired of being beat up, chased, locked in sheds, closets and crawl spaces. He was tired of ice cold showers, no privacy and James screaming at him all the time. James…touching him at night, making him do bad things, making him cry. He missed his daddy, and he missed his mommy' house. He'd made up his mind. He was running away.

He left a note for Blaine in his mailbox, hoping he would find it and understand.

"Dear Blaine," it read. "I'm sorry, but I had to go. Daddy needs me. I cant liv here any mor. I will miss you. Thank you for beeing my friend. –Love Kurt."

He sniffed, staring at Blaine's house in the dark, clutching his backpack and suitcase, ready to go home. He took a deep, determined breath, and started walking.

He made it about fifty feet before someone ran up behind him, grabbing him and spinning him around. "Kurt, wait!"

"Blaine?" he blanched looking at him in the dark. He looked back at him, winded and in his pajamas.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going home," he said tearfully. "I want my daddy and I can't live here anymore. I don't want my snack stolen, or my dinner knocked out of my hands. I don't want other boys to walk into the bathroom when I'm taking a shower! I don't want James to touch me when all I want to do is sleep! I want to go sleep in my house, in my bed, with my daddy!"

"Shh…" Blaine soothed, cautiously pulling him into a hug. "I know, I know. But I heard Rosalyn talking to Mommy and she said if you ran away you won't be able to go home. They'll just make you stay here longer." Kurt sniffed, looking at him, frowning.

"Rosalyn?" He said. Blaine nodded.

"She's my nanny," he explained. "She comes and gets me when we play?"

"Your mommy doesn't play with you?" He asked, confused. He shook his head, which only made Kurt feel worse.

"So…so I have to stay," he sniffed. Blaine nodded. Kurt sobbed once, allowing Blaine to hug him again; it was all the curly-haired boy could think of. "I can take care of myself," he promised nodding. "I-if I show that lady I can say I'm sorry she-she'll let me go home, right?"

"I don't see why not," Blaine said quietly. "I just need you to go back inside. Your daddy will be here soon." Kurt nodded, sobbing.

"Okay, okay," he gulped, nodding a little. "I'll go back inside. I'll go back."

The porch light flicked on. The two friends froze, unsure of what to do.

"What the hell?" She barked. She stalked over, and before Kurt could speak, she grabbed his arm, gripping his arm and yelling at him. "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE YOU LITTLE-?"

Kurt wasn't listening. He was looking at Blaine, tugging away from her, wishing he could plug his ears. "L-leave me alone!" He begged.

She pushed Blaine back when he tried to get Kurt from her, saying something about him staying out of it. The yelling caused more lights on the block to come on, and Blaine's parents to come outside, also yelling Blaine's name.

Mrs. Melrose yelled back at them, still holding Kurt's arm above his head.

Rosalyn bent down, scooping a squirming Blaine into his arms, shushing him while he tried to get down and back to Kurt.

In turn, Kurt reached for him, standing on his tip-toes before being jerked back again. The adults were yelling at each other, and Kurt was slowly being dragged toward the house.

"Blaine!"

_SMACK!_

Kurt squealed in pain, whole body tensing, pain blooming from his backside. She hit him four more times, harder and harder as she went. "You, stay, in, side!" She hissed with each swing. Kurt sobbed, getting his arm swatted as he tried to block her.

He sobbed hard, looking back when he heard Blaine yell his name. He saw his tear-filled eyes before being hauled into the house, the door slamming shut.

He stumbled up the stairs, still holding his arm. She threw his things in his and James' room before taking him down the hall, leaving him with nothing but his Raggedy Ann doll.

"You're a bad, _bad_ boy, Kurt!" She cursed, holding his shoulders too tight, pinching him. He flinched away from her, the reek of cigarettes overwhelming him. "And bad boys go in the naughty room." She opened the door beside them, heaving him into the small room that might have once been a walk-in closet.

"No!" He squeaked. She shut the door, leaving him all alone in the dark. He lied down, sobbing. "I wanna go _home_!" He begged, innocent, haunted eyes so broken. "Daddy…" He bawled, shaking. "Daddy, take me home…"

He cried all night, folding his jacket under his head as a pillow, cradling his doll, his only comfort. He shut his eyes, crying, pretending he was home…and Blaine was with him.

* * *

><p>Burt sat down on Kurt's bed, holding his favorite bowtie in his hands. He was probably so mad he forgot it. He looked around the peculiar bedroom.<p>

A pink vanity stood against the wall, Toy Story sheets on the bed, a Barbie dream-house in the corner beside a basket of dinosaurs and Hot Wheels. A few toys were scattered on the rug made to look like a road. A fireman was riding a My Little Pony, on a quest to save a distressed Angelica being eaten by Reptar not far away, the Mystery Machine holding the dastardly Big Bird outside the Polly Pocket boutique across the street. He smiled tearfully.

He missed him so much. He wanted to hug him and squeeze him until he said it was too tight, make him macaroni and cheese and help him with his Easy Bake. He wanted to try to run him a bath only to be told he could do it himself. He wanted to hear him tap dancing in the kitchen and playing war in the backyard. He wanted to be forced to watch _Beauty and the Beast_ or _Snow White_ just _one _more time before bed. God, he just wanted his child.

One more bill had to go through. Just one and then he could go get him, and _God_ when he did he'd hold him and never let him go.

He bowed his head, crying softly, bowtie clutched in his hand. "I don't know how much longer I can take this, Elizabeth. I need our son. I…God, I can't live without Kurt."

He's run every awful situation he could think of in his head about the place they'd taken him. Hurt lying in a crowded room full of rude, loud, cursing people while he tried to sleep, scared and crying. Kurt being bullied by older boys, beat up or neglected, begging for his father to come save him from it all. It crushed his heart to think of it…

"God, I don't know what to do!"

The doorbell rang.

* * *

><p><em>26 days…<em>

Kurt was hungry and tired. He hadn't slept at all last night, and now his eyes were swollen and raw, body weak. He didn't know what time it was, and he was too afraid to get up and look for the light switch.

Suddenly, a granola bar slid under the door. He paused, waiting for someone to speak. "That kid you hang out with asked me to give you this," Puck said. A note slid under the door. "Don't-"

"Tell anyone, I know," he said hoarsely. The boy rushed away. Kurt waited a beat before lunging for the food and the note. He ate as quickly as he could before opening the envelope. There were a lot of spelling errors, but he understood it.

"Kurt, are you okay? I'm sorry I got you in trouble. I really hope you're okay. And if you're scared, just remember I'm right there for you. –Love Blaine."

The crying child held it to his chest, trying not to let his tears out. How did he have any _left_?

He laid back down with Blaine sentiments at his chest, teary-eyed. He was so tired, so weary of the emotional toils that no child should be put through. The loss of his mother, separation from his father, torments of children and the beating from the strange woman was almost too much. The molestation was what sent him over the edge. The only thing keeping him from losing his mind was Blaine. He kept him strong, gave him hope, and gace him the strength to finally, _finally_, swallow his fear and go to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>27 days…<em>

Blaine sat outside, holding a sparkly purple pinwheel, sad. He stared at the door and porch across the street, and had been for hours. The pinwheel was his official, apology to Kurt, and he thought it would fun to run up and down the sidewalks to make it and his green one spin. Then he thought they could blow bubbles for awhile and finish the afternoon with red and yellow Power Ranger's wedding…if Kurt came outside.

Suddenly, the door opened. He grinned, bolting to him without looking both ways. He hugged him as tight as he could, closing his eyes. Kurt held him back, face in his neck. "Are you okay?" He nodded.

"I'll be alright," he said, voice rough. Blaine frowned.

"What's wrong with your voice?"

"It's from crying," he said breezily. He took a long drink of the bottle of juice in his hand, smiling a little. Blaine touched his cheek.

"Is that why your eyes are swelled up too?" He nodded. Blaine hugged him again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, offering the pinwheel to him; Kurt cocked his head. "It's my 'I'm so sorry' pinwheel. I saw it in the store and thought you'd like it." He took it, smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time.

"You don't have to be sorry, Blaine. You didn't do anything," he assured, sitting slowly.

"Are you okay?" Blaine repeated.

"She just hit me really hard," he said, wincing when he sat. Blaine patted his leg.

"It'll go away in a few days," he said. "My daddy hits me that hard sometimes too." He bowed his head, just feeling worse.

"Blaine…I don't want to talk about that today. I just wanna play with you," he said softly. Blaine smiled.

"Finish your snack first. You look hungry."

* * *

><p>Kurt hadn't stopped smiling since that moment. Blaine blew hundreds of bubbles while Kurt danced in them. he used up a whole bottle just to make him giggle over and over.<p>

They ran around with their pinwheels, watching them spin, getting dizzy and falling in the grass, rolling and laughing with each other. They played tag, fought with sword sticks for their honor, went on a quest to save Barbie, the damsel in distress, had a tea party at lunch and made ready for Yellow Power Ranger's marriage to Re Ranger, and Green Ranger's plot to crash the ceremony and declare his undying love.

All of his problems melted away in Blaine's smile. The ache for his parents, the hunger in his stomach and the fear of going to bed that night disappeared in bright brown eyes and dimples.

"Blaine?" He said softly. He looked up from the daisy chain he was making.

"Yeah?" He smiled, curious.

"Thank you for today," he whispered. "I really needed this."

The boy smiled, tying off the last flower. "Well, maybe someday I can make every day this special for you." He put the freshly made crown on Kurt's head, making him smile enough to show teeth and blush a soft pink.

"I sure hope so."


	6. Chapter 6

**-This chapter is rated Mx100, just so you all know.-**

**I Will Remember You**

Burt opened the door and froze. "Jane?" Elizabeth's mother stood on his porch, a bag at her side. She smiled warmly.

"Hello, Burt." He didn't move. She looked at him expectantly. "What? You didn't forget that I was coming, did you?" He had. God, that means she would-

"Where's Kurt? I have presents for him." She was still smiling, stepping inside and looking around for him before turning to Burt. "Burt?"

"He's not here," he said, voice wavering. Her smile faded.

"Where is he?" He looked at the floor, tears welling in his eyes.

"They took him away…" He told her what happened, where Kurt had gone and how fucking angry and guilty he was for letting that happen to his child.

Jane stood there, hand over her mouth. "…and now he-he's gotta be so angry with me. He doesn't understand why they took him and I…I can't go get him until they get this last bill."

"How long with that take?" She breathed. He shrugged.

"Three, maybe four more days. The mortgage company will get it before they can," he mumbled. She shook her head.

"No. No, you will get Kurt back by Wednesday," she said firmly, grabbing the phone.

"What are you-?"

"MY husband, God rest his soul, was a lawyer for thirty years; I know my way around this sort of thing, and I want my grandchild back. Yes, Judge Allen? Yes, it's Jane Cross…"

* * *

><p><em>30 days…<em>

Blaine scowled at the older boys walking away and laughing, helping Kurt off the ground.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Kurt was staring at his hands, eyes overflowing with tears. Blaine looked and gasped.

His white Power Ranger's right leg had broken off.

"Th-they broke m-my," he was gasping, on the verge of violent sobs, "They broke it!" He fell back on his haunches, crying hard.

"I-it's okay," Blaine nodded, holding his hands as he clutched the toy. "Shh, we'll fix it. I'll find a way to fix it." He knew how much it meant to him, what it represented and those horrible children broke it…it and Kurt's poor little heart. "Let me see, let me see." He handed it over, unable to speak, only able to sob.

"Shh, hush, it's okay," he said, touching his cheek. "Stay right here. I can fix this."

"They broke it!" He squeaked.

"I know, I know. Just hang on, okay?" He said gently, darting across the street as fast as he could.

Kurt sat, holding the toy, so sad, as if his mother had died all over again, leaving a broken mess behind.

He didn't' see Puck peer around the corner, looking at the shattered boy who dressed and talked funny. He saw the toy in his hands, leg popped from the hinge. He stepped cautiously, trying to make sure Kurt didn't run or think he would hurt him.

He gasped when he got close enough, holding the pieces to his chest, scared. "Go away! Your stupid friends already broke him!" He said, voice cracking. Puck frowned, shaking his head.

"I'm not gonna hurt it, or you," he added. "I'm gonna fix it." Kurt stared at him.

"No, y-you'll-"

"I pinkie promise," Puck said, kneeling down and offering his little finger. The sniffling boy's eyes were wide at the offer, hooking their fingers together and handing him the toy.

Puck took the leg and popped it into place, taking a tiny scarf he'd borrowed from a girl's Barbie doll and wrapped it around it so it would heal better and gave it back.

"All better," he said gently. Kurt smiled, looking at it.

"Thank you so much," he said, genuine. Puck shrugged.

"Hey!" Blaine barked, jogging over. "You leave him alone!"

"No, Blaine, he fixed it." He offered the doll to him. Blaine looked it before gawking at Puck.

"Keep your mouths shut about that." He ran away.

Blaine said beside Kurt, offering him a cookie, which he took and nibbled. "I didn't know he could be nice," he said. Kurt stared after him.

"I did."

* * *

><p><em>32 <em>_days__…_

"Please, I just want to sleep. I'm sleepy, please…" Kurt cried, turning his face away from James, who hovered above him.

"You keep quiet!" He hissed, slapping him. Kurt whimpered, sobbing.

"I just wanna go to sleep!" He begged.

"Shut the _fuck__up_!" Another slap to an innocent cheek. Kurt squirmed, feeling James' proving hands claw and squeeze his hips too tight, his pajama bottoms lost in the sheets with his briefs. He cried, shaking, keeping quiet, reaching for his doll but always coming up short.

"Daddy…" he choked. "Daddy…Daddy…" James' flesh started to touch his. He would start rubbing against his leg soon, still touching naughty places and maoning in his ear with rancid breath. "Daddy!"

The door opened.

"Hey, James did you-?" Liam froze. James did too, for a moment before hastily pulling up his pants as Liam turned the light on.

One look at Kurt's half-naked body covered in scratches and budding bruises and the fat tears on his cheeks told him what happened, what had _been_ happening.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Liam snarled. James stood, looking from the bed to Liam.

"I-"

Kurt covered himself with shaking hands, searching hastily for his pants, crying.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU DOING?" A few lights down the hall clicked on, the older kids peeking from their rooms. Kurt winced sobbing aloud, looking up at them, lost.

"I didn't do anything!" He exclaimed. Liam scowled, stepping closer to him, getting in his face.

"Bullshit you didn't," he growled. "You look at him." He didn't move. He grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing him. "LOOK AT HIM!" Kurt was trembling, crying hard, holding his doll tight. "He's eight _fucking_ years old!" He barked. "EIGHT! And your pussy ass takes his fucking innocence away?" James twisted away from him, glaring.

"Fuck you!" He bellowed. A few older teenagers were in the doorway, including a very large African-American boy who watched with arms folded, evaluating. The few girls there were appalled, hands over their mouths.

"YOU FUCKING MOLESTED HIM! He's EIGHT you Godless MOTHER FUCKER!"

Kurt's hands were over his ears, face in his knees, singing Mommy's favorite song, "Baby Mine" from _Dumbo_ as loud as he could, though the tune was lost in his tears.

They were screaming back and forth, cursing, scaring Kurt even more.

"…AND YOU'RE NOT GONNA TOUCH HIM AGAIN!" Liam screamed. "KURT!" The boy jumped, crying harder. "GET YOUR SHIT!" The little boy curled into himself, sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe. Liam softened, realizing how afraid he was. He knelt in front of him, a soothing hand on his shoulder. "Shh, it's okay, little guy. It's okay."

"What is going on?" Mrs. Melrose bellowed, coming through the throng.

Liam scooped Kurt up, grabbing his backpack and luggage, popping his picture off the wall and setting it and his pillow in Kurt's arms.

"Kurt's staying in my room now," he growled. The large boy stepped forward nodding to Liam.

"Yeah," he said, looming over James. "I'll be staying with James now. " She sighed, righting her curlers as she walked away.

"Alright."

Liam held Kurt firmly, but not hard, shushing him gently. "It's okay, Kurt. It's okay now," he soothed, voice now soft and kind. "He won't hurt you anymore, buddy. " He set him on a bed, putting his bag against the wall, backpack beside it.

Kurt looked at him, trembling. "Y-you're not gonna tell on me a-are you?" He cried. "I don't wanna g-get in trouble!"

"Shh, you won't," he assured. "You didn't do anything wrong, bud. You're okay. Everything's okay. Did James tell you you'd get in trouble if you told?" He asked. Kurt nodded. Liam patted his hair, holding his shoulder. "You did nothing wrong. I need you to get sleep. Can you do that for me?"

"I-I can try," he whimpered. Liam sighed, holding Kurt in his lap. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay. Hush, Kurt, it's okay."

Liam held him all night, rocking him, telling him it was alright now.

And Kurt slept.


	7. Chapter 7

**I Will Remember You**

_32 days…_

"…and he didn't hurt you likes James did?" Blaine asked, hopeful that Kurt actually had a good night's rest.

"No, he was really nice," he explained. "He rocked me to sleep and told everyone to be quiet this morning so I could get some sleep." Blaine beamed, so happy he finally got some mercy. "I did get chased out here, though," he mumbled.

"Noah?" He wondered. Kurt shook his head.

"He found out what Liam did for me and said he'd leave me alone," he nodded.

"Why?" Blaine wondered.

"Liam's his older brother," he said. He shut his eyes, trying to put the flashes of the night before out of his mind. "James almost hurt me really bad last night." Blaine touched his hand, deeply concerned.

"But he didn't, did he?" He breathed.

"No…" He looked down at the toy in his hands. "I want to go home."

"He'll be here-"

"…soon, I know. But when will soon be?" His eyes watered.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry. You make my heart hurt when you cry, Kurt," he begged, dabbing his eyes with the hankie in his pocket. "He'll be here, I promise."

Kurt leaned against him, sniffling, so upset. "I just want my Daddy," he whispered. "That's all I want…"

"Kurt!"

He looked up, eyes wide.

"Daddy?"

Burt jogged down the sidewalk bending and opening his arms when he was close enough. Kurt's little legs went as fast as they'd allow, his patent leather shoes clicking on the concrete. He leapt into his arms, sobbing. "Daddy!"

Burt scooped up his son, his world, his baby, hugging him so tight, shushing him softly. Kurt buried himself in his father's neck and shoulder, crying so hard his chest hurt. "Daddy…Daddy!"

"Shh, I'm here. I'm here, buddy. I've got you. It's okay," he soothed. "I'm here now, I'm here. It's okay, baby," he kissed his head, holding the back of his neck. "I got you, buddy. I'm here. Shh…"

"I-I w-wanna g-go home!" He bawled. "Pl-pl-please, Daddy, ca-can we g-g-go home?"

"Of course, of course we can. Nana's getting your things and then we'll go, okay?" He soothed. "We're going home, it's alright."

"Nana?" He choked. Burt nodded. Kurt collapsed again, tears both relieved and pained.

Blaine smiled, watching the scene before him. He stood, starting to go across the street.

"Wait!" Kurt called, wriggling out of Burt's grip. "Hang on, Daddy. I gotta do something first."

He ran to Blaine, digging in his backpack along the way. "Blaine!" He called, stopping him. "Here." He thrust his hands out, holding his two sacred Power Rangers. Blaine's jaw dropped.

"Kurt, no," he said, shaking his head. "I can't do that. Not those. Your mommy gave you those."

"I want you to have them," he encouraged. "Please, I want you to, Blaine. As a present for being so nice to me." Blaine took them, eyes watering.

"Okay," he said, hands shaking as he took them. He dug in his pocket, retrieving the Polly Pocket compact and holding it out to him. "If I have to take that, then you have to take this."

"Blaine-"

"Please." Kurt pursed his lips to keep himself from crying, carefully taking it and pressing it to his cheek.

They hugged each other, tight, squeezing hard, letting the tears out now. "Is this goodbye?" Blaine whispered.

"No," Kurt gulped. "I'll never say goodbye to you, Blaine. You were my first real friend."

"You were mine too." They looked at each other, trying to smile. Blaine leaned forward, kissing him, just a light, gentle peck on his lips. Kurt blushed. "I'll see you again," he nodded, still crying. One more hug, one more tight squeeze. "Go see your daddy. He missed you as much as you missed him." It took him a moment to let go.

He ran back to his father, giving Blaine another tiny wave, hoping with all his might that he would see him again some day.

* * *

><p><em>33 days...<em>

"Daddy," a soft, almost inaudible, broken whisper. "Daddy?" A little shake to a father's shoulder. Burt jumped awake, instantly worried. His child stood beside the bed, holding his doll, tears on his cheeks.

"What's wrong, buddy?" He whispered, sleep on his voice.

"I-I had a nightmare," he squeaked. "Can, can I sleep in your bed?"

"Of course you can." He picked him up, holding him close to him, allowing him to snuggle close to his chest. "What was your dream about?" He urged. Kurt had promptly refused to talk about anything that happened while he was away, saying, "It doesn't matter. I'm home now. It's done." And now, as Burt asked the question, he felt his son start to tremble. "Kurt?"

"I'll get in trouble," he said, choking a sob. "If I tell you I'll get in trouble, Daddy." Burt looked at him steadily.

"I promise, Kurt, you won't get into trouble. No matter what you tell me about what happened there, you will _not_ get into trouble," he swore.

Kurt looked at him, cheeks wet. "Okay, Daddy."

The words gushed from the little boy's mouth, breaking his father's heart with every wordd.

Anger boiled inside of him, thinking of some monster touching his child, making him cry and beg in the dark. Nothing so innocent should be tainted this way, especially…especially his _son_. There was so much anger, sadness and nausea swelling within the father as he listened to him that he thought he might puke, scream or cry.

"Am I in trouble, Daddy?" He asked. Burt sat up, engulfing Kurt in his arms, holding him just as close and tight as he wanted to all this time.

"No, Kurt, you're not in trouble. You'll never be in trouble for that."

"I missed you, Daddy," he breathed. Burt kissed his forehead.

"I missed you too, Kurt. Try and get some sleep, alright?" He said, smiling a little.

He sniffled, so sad. "Okay, Daddy…"

Burt sat up with him, rocking him, singing to him just like Elizabeth used to. His poor, abused and broken little boy, sniffing and whimpering softly in his arms.

He waited until Kurt fell asleep before he started to cry, and he didn't stop until the sun came up.

* * *

><p><em>35 days...<em>

"What are you going to do about it?" Jane demanded.

"Go up there and talk to that woman and see what the hell she plans on doing," he growled. "I swear to _God_ if I see that kid I'll kill him."

"Burt, you have to try and keep yourself under control," she urged. "If you don't it could ruin any chance you have for punishing that boy." It made her sick to her stomach to think that her sweet, innocent grandchild, fraught with the grief of losing his mother and being thrown in a new place had been…had been molested nearly every night he was there.

She was watching him color, now, noting what colors he was using and peeking at his drawing once or twice to see if he was displaying the trauma at all.

"Alright," he sighed. "Are you gonna stay here with him?"

"I thought Kurt and I could have one of our special days," she remarked. "It might take his mind off this whole mess, Elizabeth too." Burt nodded.

"Sounds good." He grabbed his coat, bending next to Kurt and kissing his head.

"Daddy's gonna go out for a minute, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," he said softly, smiling at him. Burt's heart cracked.

_He's so much stronger than I am…and he's only a baby. He's just a little boy…_

He tousled his hair again before leaving, giving his son another look caught between pride and heartache.

Jane sat beside him, smiling gently. "Kurt?" He looked at her, eyes older than his face portrayed, a trait that would stay with him for the rest of his life. "Would you like to have a Special Day with me?" He brightened, his smile transforming his face into a bright, dimpled beacon.

"A special day? Really!" He stood, incredibly excited. She grinned.

"Mmhm. Just for you," she said. "Today is your day, Kurt. We'll do whatever you want to."

"Whatever I want?" He grinned. She nodded.

"Whatever you want."

He ran upstairs. "I have to get dressed!"

* * *

><p>A Happy Meal, a Play Place, two Baby Gaps, ice cream and a new stuffed puppy later, Kurt was asleep on the couch with "Cinderella" playing in the background.<p>

Jane read her book with his head in her lap, smiling softly, happy that she could give him at least one day of peace without having to think about that awful place.

She turned when Burt came inside, looking over her shoulder at him. "How'd it go?" She asked softly so as not to stir her grandson.

"It's settled," he said, tight-lipped. "The kid admitted to it before I even asked him anything. Kurt won't have to say anything in court." She sighed, relieved.

"Good."

"He have fun today?" He asked, looking at the sleeping boy. She nodded, smoothing his hair.

"Only child I've ever seen that would rather get clothes than toys," she chortled. Burt smiled, bending down and cautiously picking him up.

"Thank you for that," he said quietly. "He really needed something like that. She shrugged.

"What are grandmothers for?" They smiled at each other.

"How long are you staying?" He inquired.

"Until this matter with the courts is resolved and you two can start healing," she said simply. He nodded, lips pursed, eyes downcast.

"Thank you," he repeated. She nodded, going back to her book.

Burt carried his son upstairs, lying him and getting him ready for bed.

He took off his shoes, setting them in their appropriate place and unclipping his bowtie. He took off his vest and button-up, putting on his Superman pajama shirt.

Kurt whimpered when Burt started to take off his pants, squirming away, waking up in a terrified panic. "No! No, James! I'm sleepy! Don't touch my privates, please! I wanna go to bed! MOMMY! DADDY!"

"Kurt!" Burt said, holding his face. "Kurt, look at me, it's Daddy. It's daddy, baby. Shh…" He stared at him, sobs jumping out with his gasps for air.

"Daddy?"

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay. Go to sleep, okay? Just go back to sleep, buddy. Daddy won't hurt you, okay?" He whispered. Kurt nodded, closing his eyes, still shaking a little. Burt rubbed his forehead until he was at peace again, a lump in his throat.

"Shh…" he soothed, carefully taking his pants away and replacing them with the ones that matched his shirt. "Daddy's here…it's alright, he can't hurt you anymore, buddy. It's alright."

He stayed with him for a few hours, but no nightmares plagued him.

Kurt smiled in his sleep, thinking instead of a boy with a dizzy-dreamer grin and curls.

* * *

><p><em>Eleven years later…<em>

Blaine looked down at the shoebox in his lap, mouth agape.

"What's that, Blaine?" Kurt asked, piling the collection of suspenders into a box. They were finishing packing up his room, getting him ready to move into Kurt's apartment in New York with him while they attended NYADA.

The dapper boy looked up, caught between sadness, disbelief and overwhelming happiness. He tilted the box so Kurt could see the two Power Rangers inside, arms linked, masks pressed together as if they were kissing. Kurt gasped.

It all came back to him, then. Being taken away from his father, the bullies, Puck, James, Liam, Nana…and, and Blaine. His first friend. His first boyfriend. His first true love. His first…

"Blaine," it was all he could manage at the moment. He took few deep breaths, plopping on the bed beside him. "Blaine, you were my first kiss."

He lit up like a Christmas light, grinning. "I was, wasn't I?" He whispered. They laughed a little. "God, how-how did we forget each other?"

Kurt frowned. "I guess I tried to block it all out. And when I did that I guess I forgot you too." Blaine shook his head, mesmerized.

"You had every right to," he assured, taking his hand, remembering the first time he'd done that. The memories were fuzzy, clouded with the forgetfulness that comes with adulthood. He remembered Kurt's small, soft hand that still fit the same way now. His smile was the same, his laugh, his clothes, his smell. Kurt was still Kurt.

Kurt pounced, hugging his fiancé as tightly as he could manage without injuring him, laughing with him through tears. "I told you," he whispered frantically. "I told you I'd never say goodbye to you. I told you…" They kissed, much deeper than they had when they were younger, smiling, foreheads together, hands cradling the other's face. "I love you so much," he breathed.

"I love you too," he gasped, tears in his eyes. "I did then too," he swore. "I loved you then."

Wrapped in each other's arms, lips locked and dancing to a rhythm only they knew, destiny concluded it's journey, a mission written in the stars long ago complete.

**Fin**

**-Thank you all SOOO much for following this. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to hear from you all again. My next Klaine fic is titled "I've Been Looking for you Forever" and it shall be up very soon! Thank you again and God Bless!-**


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